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Kindle Notes & Highlights
I’m physical evidence that love is more than just skin colour. I’m my ancestors’ wildest dreams. I’m the fear of every racist. I am history, I am present, I am future. I am valid and enough, regardless of what naysayers might say. I don’t have to pick sides. I’m two, made into one. I’m proof that borders are just imaginary lines made to separate people. I’m anarchy, in my own way, rebellion against the norm.
Just to have the peace of not being comprised of pieces. To have your simplicity. To feel as one. Instead of no one.
The superpowers of being mixed. The understanding of everyone. The ability to see both sides. All sides. No sides.
Anyway, Christmas Day. We would open presents one by one to make the moment last. Now, either present or past, I try and make good moments last.
Yet, no matter who is throwing the party, mixed people miss the invite.
Racism isn’t American. So tomorrow be braver.
Be braver! Punch a Yahtzee in the face!
I am, above all things, a mask maker. But now the glue has settled and stuck and I pull at my cheeks as my skin starts to tear. And now there is just a black hole where my face used to be. Until I make my next mask, who knows who I’ll be.
